


Coming Out of Hell (Into the Light)

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Threats, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 22:44:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9406058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: Quinn's feelings for Maggie become a point of weakness for him when a cartel he's done business with in the past takes her hostage against his cooperation.In order to make it right, he brings in a couple of really big guns.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poppetawoppet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppetawoppet/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this - as soon as I read the lyrics for Beat of a Breaking Heart, I knew exactly what I was going to do!
> 
> Thank you for playing with us!

A man with nothing left to lose walked into the southern California headquarters of the Fuego del Infierno cartel one late summer afternoon. He carried only a semi-automatic and the promise of pain and darkness for any that stood against him. Two ghosts drafted in his wake, dealing out their own full measure of death and pain even as they searched for the thing that had brought them all to this time and place.

 _”We are not finished with your services.”_ Quinn hadn’t even known Maggie had been taken until that horrible moment, until he saw her dragged bruised and bloody in front of the camera, clothes torn, hair a wild tangled mess, struggling and cursing everyone around her in fluent Spanish. _”Consider the woman insurance that you will do as we tell you going forward. So long as you behave, she will live.”_

The fact that there was no chance Maggie would escape them doing whatever they wanted short of killing her hung heavy in the air, even though nobody said the words outright.

Quinn had agreed to their terms on the spot, unwilling to watch them butcher the woman he loved without him having even the smallest chance to fight back.

 _Love._ The truth of it had sunk into his bones soon after, destroying the man he’d been once and for all. He’d done the unforgivable – not falling in love with Maggie Collins, because what thinking, breathing man wouldn’t happily hand his heart over to such a smart, fierce, beautiful woman?

No, the unforgivable on his part was imagining even for a second that he could do anything except love her from as great a distance as possible. He’d gone to her bed. He’d eaten with her, danced with her, shared his thoughts and feelings with her, done everything short of moving himself into her home and into every aspect of her life.

Unforgiveable indeed.

A woman’s voice spoke low in his ear, transmitted efficiently under the screams of the dead and dying. “I’m going low. Plans showed a cellar with access in the kitchen.” Natasha Romanoff, sometime spy, assassin, superhero and all around badass, moved off to Quinn’s right, stopping long enough to squeeze of a shot from one of her Glocks. At the far end of the room, Quinn saw another man drop – dead before he hit the floor.

“Watch it!” Tash’s partner – Clint Barton – stepped in front of Quinn as another member of the cartel was drawing down on him. One smooth, elegant move, and the would-be killer also dropped with an arrow protruding from his throat.

Storm colored eyes looked back at Quinn. “We still cutting the head off the snake?”

He nodded, not wasting his energy on words. If Barton wasn’t going to worry about Natasha breaking off on her own, Quinn wouldn’t either.

Shoulder to shoulder, the two men plunged back into the fight.  
********************************************  
Natasha didn’t know if she’d ever had a big brother. That awareness, like so much of her childhood, was lost forever to the labyrinth of the Red Room. If there had been one once upon a time though, she liked to imagine he’d been at least a little bit like Quinn.

They’d met when she was still working on the Russian side of the geo-political fence – a good eighteen months before Clint Barton would change her world forever. Quinn had been one of a gang of toughs she’d encountered in a waterfront bar in Katmandu; idiots determined to sport with her, whether she wanted their attention or not. To this day Natasha didn't know what had prompted her to let Quinn claim a kiss off her before she put him on his ass, but it had been the start of a most unusual friendship; one that to this day she genuinely valued.

The cellar door was exactly where their intel had said it would be. Unguarded, which suggested that there was nothing valuable below. _On the other hand, maybe they figured they could help,_ her brain helpfully pointed out. Either way, one expertly placed bullet made short work of the door. Glocks at the ready, Natasha headed down into the darkness.

Pulling out her smart phone when she reached the bottom of the stairs, Natasha thumbed on the flashlight app and played the Stark enhanced beam of light over the space.

A woman's gasp reached her ears, just before she illuminated a figure sitting on a camp cot, wrists bound by a length of rope that was in turn tied to the cot frame. "Margaret Collins?" Natasha asked, holstering her guns and pulling out one of her knives. The woman's eyes were wary for a moment, but Nat followed up immediately with "My name is Natasha Romanoff. I'm with Jonah Quinn."

"Quinn?" Maggie started to roll to her knees on the thin mattress, but abruptly stsopped – crying out in real pain. Natasha moved forward immediately, slicing through the rope and crouching in front of the cot.

"Where are you hurt?"

Maggie swallowed hard, sliding her bare right foot out towards Nat. "Pretty sure it's broken," she said, her voice tight.

 _Swollen...bruised...bloody..._ Touching her com Natasha said, "If you boys are done playing with your food, I need some help with this extraction." Locking eyes with Maggie she said, "I'm going to try not to hurt you, okay?" Cradling the injured foot, Natasha probed as gently as she dared – shifting her touch every time Maggie winced or made a sound.

"Yep," she said at last, setting the foot back on the mattress. "They wanted to make sure you weren't going anywhere under your own power."

Blue eyes widened, and Maggie shook her head. "I'm not staying here."

Nat smiled reassuringly. "I promise you. That's not an option."  
***************************************  
Everything hurt, as far down as she was aware of her body. All Maggie wanted to do was collapse in a flood of tears with rescue so close, but all the circumstances of her life to date had given her a core of pragmatism no level of torture or abuse could shake.

Now was not the time for weakness or tears. Maggie submitted to letting Natasha check her for other injuries, answering the woman's questions as completely as she could. After what seemed like an eternity, footsteps were heard hurrying down the cellar stairs. Natasha went immediately to her feet – guns out and aimed until Quinn burst into view, followed closely by another man carrying a bow with an arrow fit to the string.

"They broke her foot," Natasha said. "One of you're going to need to carry her upstairs."

Quinn gave no indication that he heard the report. His dark eyes were huge as he walked slowly forward, every inch of him focused on Maggie. "I'm okay," she said, trying to sound stronger than she felt. "I'm okay."

Once upon a time, Maggie had looked into the eyes of a man she thought she loved with all her heart and seen him wither and die as he thought he had failed her when it mattered most. _Not again._

“Quinn,” she said firmly, as he started to reach out for her and stopped himself. “Quinn, take me out of here. Please.”

A shudder passed through Quinn’s entire body, and he was visibly shaking as he reached for her, but his touch was gentle as he gathered Maggie into his arms. Even so, he couldn’t keep from jostling the worst of her injuries, and Maggie thought for a second she was going to lose him when she couldn’t keep from whimpering. He steadied himself though, and looked ahead to the archer – who had remained at the stairs. “Clint, take point,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.

Things gradually shifted into what felt like normal speed as Quinn finally carried her up the stairs. “Don’t look,” he murmured as they entered the kitchen and she saw the first two blood-spattered corpses sprawled out on the floor. Maggie tried to be strong, to show him she wasn’t broken by any of this, but as they passed into the next room, she buried her head against the slope of his neck – shutting out the carnage as best she could.

She heard his quiet intake of breath as she turned to him for comfort; a moment later, a hand came up to cradle the back of her head. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “Maggie…”

“Nothing to forgive.” The words came to her as easily as breathing. “Take me home.”

_Help us both forget._


End file.
